Fade
by Slivering
Summary: Angels AU. Tezuka was still having trouble comprehending the fact that he was keeping an angel hidden in his bedroom.


**FADE**

Chapter One

The night was eerily quiet.

Tezuka padded through the forest route he took home, feeling a brief shiver run up his spine at the stillness. He had stayed late at Fuji's house, and had insisted on walking back home. He was sorely regretting that decision. He'd never taken this path in the dark before. The trees were shadowy figures blended in the night, and not a single lamppost flickered with light. The creatures in the forest were strangely soundless.

His steps grew hurried. He really _should_ have accepted Fuji's offer to drive him home.

Tezuka slipped through the tangled branches of the trees. He could see the moon, leaving a thin trail of light to guide his way.

Out of nowhere, he heard a soft moan.

Tezuka stopped in his tracks, skin prickling. His eyes scoped the area.

He could see nothing. But the sound…it had sounded so _human._

Casting his gaze around the dark trees, Tezuka tried to search for a sign of life. Nothing but darkness greeted him. He strained his ears, but the only thing he heard was his own, slightly ragged, breathing. Maybe he'd been hearing things?

Picking up his pace, he ventured through the path that led to his house. He could see his neighbourhood in the distance, and his heart slowed down. The trees were opening to the bright light of the lampposts. The night was still strangely quiet, but now that Tezuka had caught sight of his home, he felt his worry vanish.

Until he heard another moan, and the distinct sound of rustling leaves.

Tezuka stopped, and abruptly turned to the direction of the sound. Before he could chock it off as more noises, the moan grew louder, and he saw a pale hand peeking out from behind the bushes. Tezuka's blood ran cold. His first instinct was to run, but – what if he was being followed? Or…he felt dread course through him. Was this a dying body?

He took a tentative step forward. His heart roared in his chest.

 _Maybe if he just –_

With force, Tezuka thrust the branches aside.

There was a boy, lying on the ground. Tezuka's heart beat swallowed him whole. And on that boy's back were a beautiful, soaring set of wings that matched the colour of moonlight.

 **.**

At first, Tezuka felt blinded. The light that came from the wings was so bright and vibrant that it burned right into his skull. He put a hand in front of his face for protection. Sweat grew on his forehead, and his heart thundered against his chest like a stampede of angry bulls. He ran his options through his head – one, abandon whatever this was, and run for the safety of his home. Or, stupidly, two, try to figure out what was going on. After a long consideration, he opted for two, simply because the boy on the ground looked too weak to actually hurt him.

He took a step forward.

The boy on the ground rasped, "Stay away."

The words jolted Tezuka, but he stayed put. The back of his throat felt dry with uncertainty. Perhaps he should listen, but something tugged at his chest.

The – well, whatever he _was_ – looked injured. He was dressed in ordinary clothes – a white dress shirt and black pants – but his wings were a brilliant distraction. They were long, white, feathery and continuously emitting light. Tezuka watched as the wings curled over the boy, as if trying to protect him. His white shirt sleeve was soaked with blood, trickling to his thin wrists.

"Are you…alright?" Tezuka asked.

He only received a weary glance. "Go away."

"You look injured." Tezuka felt his hands reach for his cell phone. "I'm going to call an ambulance."

" _No_!"

The response startled Tezuka, and his hands froze above the keypad. He arched a brow. "You're bleeding."

The boy heaved himself up with much panting. His face was pale of colour. "I'll be fine." He got up with unsteady footing. His wings unfurled, bright and blinding. "Just leave – I – I'm not what you think I am."

"Is that…" Tezuka paused. "Is that a costume?"

An insulted expression was thrown his way. "These are my _wings_."

Tezuka felt a sensation in the pit of his gut. His _wings_? That couldn't be possible. Wings belonged to fictional creatures…angels and fairies. They weren't _real_. Tezuka swallowed again, trying to clear the lump in his throat. But the wings _looked_ real. And yet…they couldn't be. Tezuka wasn't one to believe in such make believe.

His jumbled thoughts were cleared a moment later.

The boy grunted, and lifted himself off the ground a few inches. His wings fluttered rapidly. A second later, they drooped, and he staggered back onto the ground. " _Damn_ it." His voice was scratchy, and hoarse. Tezuka, dumbfounded, watched as he hovered back up, only to fall back to his feet.

"You're…" Tezuka took a step forward. "You're an angel."

"Yeah," the boy sneered. "And I thought you looked smart, with those glasses and all."

Tezuka was not offended. He blinked, rapidly. "You're an angel."

"Yes." He rolled his eyes. "Humans are stupid, aren't they?"

The words may have had more impact if Tezuka wasn't still with bafflement. Or, if the _angel_ didn't look so tired, thin shoulders slumped and legs barely holding him up.

After a long moment of watching the boy try to fly, but fail miserably, the angel snapped:

"Can you leave?"

"You're an angel." Tezuka cleared his throat. The boy glared. Tezuka continued, "But injured, nevertheless. I have to call an ambulance."

The boy's eyes sharpened with fury, as if to say _no way, or I'll kill you before you can,_ but his body barely dragged a few feet before he buckled to his knees and started to cough. Tezuka's mind raced He could call the ambulance, but the boy had a point. Angels to ordinary humans would only cause chaos.

"You can't." The angel looked up, gold eyes half-lidded. "I've heard what they do to us. They'll make us into experiments."

Tezuka felt a pang of pity. He didn't doubt the scientists here would want to study him. It was kind of fascinating.

"I'm Tezuka," he finally settled for. "I'm…a junior high student."

All he got in return was a half-hearted scowl.

"Who…" Tezuka fumbled for his wording. "Who are you?"

The boy looked like he wasn't going to reply, but a moment later, he scoffed, and spat:

"Ryoma."

 _Ryoma._ Tezuka tried the name out, liking the way it rolled off his tongue. He said, "Ryoma. What…where are you from?"

This time, he didn't get an answer. Ryoma shuffled forward. "I can't –" he coughed, voice grated. "Not right now – " he bent over, cheeks going rosy, breath ragged. Tezuka watched him pitifully try to walk, only to fall back onto his knees. Tezuka felt his throat tighten as Ryoma's hand quivered against the grass.

"Are you…alright?" he tried again.

Ryoma shuddered. After a moment, he looked up. "Can you…" he licked his lips. "Can you help me?"

It was obvious the question cut into his pride. Tezuka wiped the sweat from his brow. "I can heal your arm."

"No. That's not it. Can you – " Ryoma inhaled sharply. Tezuka saw his eyes blink rapidly, as if trying to dissect what he was seeing. With a lungful of breath, he clawed forward. "You – I…" his arms shook under the pressure of holding himself up. Tezuka saw his resolve break, his body collapsing onto the shrivelled grass. "Take me to your house," he finally said, cheek to the ground. His heavy breathing faded. "Don't…show anyone…" he blinked, as if trying to regain focus. "I'll…wake up in…awhile."

And then he was still.

"Ryoma?" Tezuka asked.

All he got was the faded chirp of a stray bird in the night.

Swallowing thickly, Tezuka dropped his book bag onto the ground and stepped toward the fallen angel. He lifted Ryoma's body, wrapping his arms around his neck. He could feel Ryoma's breath against his chin, the silky black hair tickling his cheek. One long, drooping wing brushed his forehead, before curling into his back.

Tezuka touched it – and jerked back as pain stung his fingertips. He would have to be careful, then.

With the weight of Ryoma's body in his arms, and his mind spinning with the absurd discovery of an angel, Tezuka walked deftly back to his house.

Maybe, if he was lucky, he would get some information when Ryoma woke up.

 **.**

It was difficult to get past his mother and grandfather.

He was lucky enough that when he entered the home, both of them were in the basement. He'd had just enough time to shove Ryoma into his room, lock the door, and arrive into the kitchen as if he hadn't just made contact with a mystical being that wasn't supposed to be real. He knew his mom was suspicious.

He _had,_ after all, greeted her with disheveled hair, his glasses wobbly on his nose, and his voice rushed haggardly as he spoke.

"We've already had dinner," his mother said. "Would you like a bowl of soup?"

"I'll take it to my room." Tezuka wondered, briefly, if Ryoma would be hungry. He waved it off. He didn't know how to take two bowls up into his room without getting a strange look. "I have a lot of homework tonight."

His mother merely arched a brow. "Homework?"

He had always been a terrible liar.

"Ah…yes." Tezuka hastily took his bowl of soup and headed for the stairwell. When he was safely behind his door, he took an uneven breath and leaned against the door. His head pounded in his skull, causing an ache to spread to his forehead and between his eyes.

Ryoma was sitting upright on his bed, head against the pillow.

"You're…" Tezuka blinked. "You're awake."

Ryoma's eyes drew down tiredly, but the glare stayed. "I want some."

"You want some…" Tezuka trailed off as his eyes found the soup. He felt the faintest trace of a smile tug against his lips. "Angels can eat human food?"

" _Human_ food." He snorted. "It's just food. It's not yours."

"I thought angels were supposed to be very kind." Tezuka stirred the bowl with a spoon. He had meant to say it offhandedly, based on the little knowledge he knew, but it wasn't a surprise that he'd come off offensive.

Ryoma muttered, "Stupid stereotypes."

Tezuka ignored the jab, and slid the bowl of soup into Ryoma's hands. The angel took a hungry slurp, and then another.

"Have you not eaten?" Tezuka ventured.

Ryoma shot him a look. "Not really. They kicked me out."

"They?"

A defensive look shot across his face. "None of your business."

Squaring his shoulders, Tezuka sat down on the chair opposite. "It is, in fact, my business. I brought you all the way to my house. You're weak right now. If you don't explain anything, I can't just keep you here. My parents will find out eventually." He said the words evenly, effectively hiding the anxiety swirling in the pit of his stomach.

Ryoma slumped. "Che." He wiped his mouth as he finished the bowl. "I'm an angel."

"Are there more of you?"

"Yes." Ryoma frowned. "A lot."

"Where do you…" Questions milled in his head. "Where are the rest of you?"

"The angel world."

That was enough to make Tezuka's mind blur into a mess. There was an _angel world?_ He felt the nausea of shock creep to his throat. "Why aren't you…there, then?" he managed in a rather hoarse voice.

"No reason." Ryoma languidly rolled his shoulders. "I want more soup."

He was distinctly rude. Tezuka ignored the demand, trying to piece things together. Ryoma was an angel. He came from the angel world, where there were several of his kind. And he was simply here on earth, looking bloody, beaten, and tired. There was a lot of components missing to the theory, and from the way Ryoma's eyes were shifting, he was hiding stuff.

"How come you're so weak?"

Ryoma hunched over. "I'm not weak."

"You could barely stand moments before."

"I was just – " Ryoma's eyes simmered. "Coming from the angel world to the human world takes up a lot of energy, _okay_?"

Tezuka felt a question tug at his head. "Then why come? You were in bad condition."

"Curiosity." Ryoma crossed his arms. "Humans talk too much."

Tezuka ignored the insult. "Are there more…on the earth?"

"Sometimes they come temporarily if they break a rule." A look flashed across Ryoma's eyes, dark and predatory. "They stay on earth because the angel world banned them. But most angels can't survive in the human world for more than a few weeks. They start to…get weak, and eventually disappear."

Tezuka's eyes narrowed. "So you'll go back in a few days?"

Ryoma swallowed. His hands grasped the edge of the bed. "Che, you ask too many questions."

"Your wings…they hurt when I touched them."

But Ryoma was done with answering questions. Tezuka watched as he curled back under the beds, folding his wings over him so his face was a brief, blurry image behind them. _He must be tired,_ Tezuka thought. He remembered the blood that had soaked through his arm. He walked over, and shock ghosted over his face.

The silk white of his shirt was free from any crimson stains. The blood had disappeared.

"How – " Tezuka's mouth was dry.

Even with his eyes closed, Ryoma's lips curled into a thin, tired smirk.

"Magic."

He fell asleep a moment after. Tezuka paced around his room, trying to occupy himself from his thoughts. He brushed his teeth, changed into his pajamas, and read the first few pages of a book. Anything to keep his mind from straying to Ryoma. Unwillingly, he felt panic well in his chest. He was keeping an _angel,_ of all things, in his home. This would surely result in consequences.

But maybe he didn't really have an option anymore. And it would only be for a week or so, right?

At around midnight, with his eyes aching for rest, Tezuka padded over to his bed. Ryoma had shrunk against the pillow, breathing softly, tiredness in his face. It would be a shame to wake him. The angel obviously needed some rest.

But he couldn't stay on the bed. If his mother came into his room at night, she would see his bright wings right away.

With this as his resolve, Tezuka lifted Ryoma back into his arms. The tip of his silky wing touched his cheek, causing the skin to burn. Tezuka wondered if it had left a mark, before shaking his head and heading for the closet.

Ryoma stirred, arms clasped around his neck. "Nngh…what the hell?" He blinked.

"You're sleeping in the closet." Tezuka opened up his door. The inside of his closet was dark, but Ryoma's glowing wings offered a bit of light.

"The bed was comfy," Ryoma growled.

Tezuka felt a pang of guilt. "I'll put some clothes on the ground to make it softer."

"No – it's _cramped_ in there – " Ryoma struggled against him, but Tezuka was surprised that his attempts were futile. He _was_ weak. At least, when he wasn't using magic. Now that Tezuka thought about it, Ryoma was really small. He was lithe – and several inches shorter than him. "How old are you?" Tezuka asked.

"Twelve." He kicked at Tezuka's stomach. "Not the closet."

"It's the best place for you to hide." Tezuka winced at the jab against his gut. His eyes narrowed. "It's more suitable than the bathroom, I'm sure?"

Ryoma made a face. Tezuka felt more guilt press at his stomach as he shoved Ryoma into the closet. The boy glared darkly, but Tezuka ignored it. He piled clothes onto the floor, hoping it could cushion Ryoma's back for the night. Once he was finished, he closed the door. Faint light shimmered through the cracks of the closet, but it was only noticeable if one knew there was an angel in there.

Exhausted, Tezuka settled into his own bed. He stared up at the dark ceiling.

There was shuffling in his closet.

"Damn humans," he heard.

Tezuka smiled, and turned to go to sleep.

 **.**

The next morning, Tezuka woke up to see Ryoma standing in front of him, wings wrinkly. He felt a sharp jolt of panic, but quickly relaxed. The memories from the night before flooded back to him. "Good morning." Tezuka slid off the bed.

" _Look_ – " Ryoma growled deep in his throat. "My wings are all bent because of sleeping in the closet."

Tezuka focused on making his bed. "My apologies, but what else do you propose I do?"

He got a glower in return. Tezuka fluffed his pillow, before opening the curtains to reveal warm sunlight. The angel flicked his white wings, before floating amiably up into the air. Tezuka watched in awe, but a moment later, Ryoma slumped down and landed onto the ground. "Che, I hate them," he muttered under his breath.

"You can't fly well?" Tezuka asked.

"No. I can fly fine." Ryoma smoothed out his wings. "It's harder in the human world."

His voice quaked slightly. His eyes darted to the ground. He was lying, but Tezuka decided not to point it out.

After making his bed, and adjusting his glasses, Tezuka headed for the shower. He paused, and turned back.

"Do you take showers?"

Ryoma's lips curved into a smirk. " _Yes,_ who do you think I am?" And with _that_ , he marched into Tezuka's bathroom, slipped behind it, and firmly shut the door. Tezuka blinked, and felt irritation rise in the back of his mind. He stared at the towel wound around his arms, then to his alarm clock. He had school, and Ryoma was going to make him late.

He heard the shower run.

Tezuka took a seat on the edge of his bed. If Ryoma took a long shower, it would become a problem. His mother may notice that he was taking double his usual length. More irritation flared. He'd have to be quick, then.

… " _But most Angels can't survive in the human world for more than a few weeks. They start to…get weak, and eventually disappear."_

Ryoma's words brimmed in his mind with uneasiness. He couldn't imagine someone simply vanishing from the world. His heart rose. He couldn't imagine Ryoma – no matter how little he knew about him – just disappearing. Tezuka was a bit startled at how fond he'd already become of the angel.

The bathroom door clicked open. Steam swirled out. "Towel!"

Tezuka sighed and stood up to get a towel.

Ryoma was the rudest angel he'd ever met. Perhaps that was a trait all angels possessed?

"Towel," Ryoma said, again, with impatience.

Somehow, Tezuka doubted it.

 _/_

Ryoma came out dressed in the same clothes he'd worn yesterday. Tezuka couldn't help but notice that he faintly smelled of citrus oranges. His pale skin looked flushed from the hot shower, and water dripped from his damp hair down his nape. His wings stretched and fluttered out behind him. He was very…sensually appealing. Tezuka felt a blush dapple on his cheeks.

Now he was being ridiculous.

"You have good soaps down here." Ryoma looked pleased. "But the stupid towel didn't work good with my wings."

"You clean them?"

"Of course." Ryoma scoffed. "Do you take me for a pig?"

Well, no. Far from that, Tezuka wanted to say. Instead, he said, "Next time, please take a shorter shower. I'll be late for school."

"School?" Ryoma drawled. "What's school?"

Tezuka's brows drew together. It was odd to think that Ryoma didn't know what school was, especially because he seemed to know a whole lot about managing in the human world. "School is a place where humans go to get their education." Tezuka shifted through his closet for his uniform. "We learn about history, science, math…everyone goes."

"That sounds boring," Ryoma said. "I think we have something like that in the Angel World. But a lot of it just focuses on our magic. And we don't call it _school._ "

Tezuka picked up the clothes from the bottom and hung them. "What do angels do? You remind me more of a faery."

"A _faery?_ " Ryoma looked absolutely offended. "I'm nothing like a faery."

Tezuka went pale. "There are faeries too? They're real as well?"

"In their own stupid world," Ryoma said.

Tezuka's mind spun. "What…what sets you apart?"

"We're better," Ryoma said with force. He rocked on the balls of his feet. "And there's guardian angels and stuff. People who choose to look after humans."

"What about you?" Tezuka was genuinely curious.

Ryoma shrugged. "I'm still young. I have time to choose later…" he swallowed harshly, and turned away. Tezuka felt his stomach roll, but decided not to question what was wrong. Ryoma seemed upset now, his brows furrowed as he finished clicking his belt across his hips. Tezuka tried not to let his curiosity get the best of him. Tezuka didn't talk much, but he'd probably spoken more words since Ryoma had come than in a whole week.

Tezuka glanced at the clock. He had to get to school. He would just take a shower in the club room after tennis practice.

"I'm going, now," he instructed Ryoma. "Don't go out of the room. Try not to touch anything. If my mother or grandfather come upstairs, hide in the closet-"

" _Or-_ " Ryoma smirked. "I could just do this."

In an instant, Ryoma dissolved into nothing. A moment later, he appeared on the other side of the room, arms crossed behind his head.

Tezuka gulped. "Or, yes. That works as well."

 **.**

Over the next couple of days, they fell into an odd routine of some sort. Ryoma would sleep in the closet every night (with much complaint) and Tezuka would sleep in his own bed. He had suggested Ryoma sleep on the bed as well if he had to ability to stay invisible, but Ryoma had told him that it took too much energy for long periods of time.

In the mornings, Tezuka took a short shower, and left Ryoma to take a short shower as well. He did Ryoma's laundry as secretly as he could, and snuck food up to his room every so often.

Tezuka didn't like it, but Ryoma was becoming good company.

"I'm back." Tezuka slipped into the room.

Ryoma was playing video games, eyes on the screen. "Che. All your games suck."

"I don't use them often," Tezuka defended. "And what if someone walks in? Can't you find something else to do?"

The video game paused, and a pair of gold eyes burned brightly. "What do you _expect_ me to do? You're gone eight hours a day, I'm stuck in your room, and you having nothing but boring books. Your computer has a password."

He had a point. Tezuka threw his school bag onto his bed.

"You could…" he voiced his thoughts carefully. "Always leave? No one asked you to stay here."

Ryoma's hand tightened around the controller, and he turned his head away. Tezuka waited for a response, but after a few seconds, he realized Ryoma had ignored it. He wondered, briefly, if the angel was hurt over his words. It wasn't that Tezuka didn't enjoy Ryoma's company. He was mildly bratty, but intriguing all the same. But if Ryoma _himself_ was bored…

"Would you like to play tennis?"

The offer had been impulsive.

Ryoma stared at him strangely. "Tennis?"

"You don't know it?"

The boy frowned. "I think…is it the game with the racquet? And the small yellow ball you hit back and forth?"

"Ah. I know a court that's secluded. If you're interested."

At first, Ryoma flashed him a sly grin. "Am I allowed to use magic? Or fly?"

Tezuka raised an eyebrow, settling down on his bed. "I would be at quite the disadvantage."

This time, the angel didn't reply. Tezuka couldn't help but notice the glow on the white wings had faded to a faint glimmer, barely emitting light. Ryoma's eyes shuttered, his chin resting on his knees. His eyes stared into the distance. He looked deep in thought – upset – as if there was something bothering him.

Tezuka cleared his throat. "Are you up for it, then?"

Ryoma flopped down onto his back. "Che. Nah. I'm too tired."

"Tired? You've been doing nothing but sitting in my room. I thought you would like the opportunity to go outside."

"I said I'm _tired,_ " Ryoma grilled. He whipped back around abruptly, starting up the video game. His wings drooped downwards on his back.

There was an odd silence.

Tezuka couldn't help the nagging in the back of his mind. It had been nearly a week since Ryoma had come. Angels couldn't survive in the human world for more than a few weeks, so that would mean Ryoma would have to leave soon. At the thought, his throat went as dry as bread crust. It was strange, and probably not good, but he was starting to enjoy Ryoma's company. Vastly.

"Ryoma…" Tezuka's voice was hesitant. "Once you leave…are you allowed to come back here…sometime?"

The guy in the video game stumbled into a wall. Ryoma's fingers froze above the controller. "You mean come back, and visit you?" His voice held a tremor.

"Ah, yes." Tezuka nodded his head. "I know you have to return to the angel world after a few weeks, but there's nothing stopping you from coming back, is there?"

Ryoma's whole back was tense. Tezuka pushed away the bad feeling buried in his stomach. Perhaps Ryoma couldn't come more than once?

Before he could voice his thoughts, there was a knock on the door.

"Kunimitsu! Open up! I'm going to wash the windows."

Ryoma grudgingly sat up. "Time for the closet." He dragged himself over.

"Can't you just disappear? She won't take too long."

His back went rigid again. "I…" he wiped his hands against his shorts. "I can't. Don't have enough energy." The words were said barely above a whisper, but Tezuka caught them sharply. He felt his gut coil into a tight knot. Why wouldn't Ryoma have the energy? He contemplated this. Maybe staying in the human world was already starting to affect him.

His mother came in with washing supplies. She hummed. "That's odd. You haven't played video games in a long time."

Tezuka averted his eyes. "Ah…I'm attempting to…loosen up." He coughed, and turned away.

His mother narrowed her eyes. "Is that _so?_ "

As usual, he was a terrible liar.

 **.**

"I tried reading one of your books. Humans _a_ _re_ stupid."

Tezuka dumped his bags onto his bed, sliding under the covers for a nap. The school day had been exhausting – Fuji had played with his mind all day with his usual games, the tennis team had been ruckus, and he had had two exams on the same day. Not to mention, he'd been staying up later due to a certain angel distracting him deep into twilight.

Ryoma stalked over. "Don't sleep." There was a sharp yank at his arm. "I've been bored."

"I'm tired." Tezuka removed his glasses. Ryoma's image fuzzed somewhat. "Let me sleep."

"I'm tired too," Ryoma grumbled.

"Is that so? I never knew playing video games burned so many calories." It was a shallow remark, more dry humour than anything else, but Ryoma fell silent at the words. Tezuka opened his aching eyelids, and the edges of his mouth curved into a rare smile.

"We can play LIFE afterwards. It's a board game."

Ryoma lit up at the prospect. "How do you play?"

"I'll show you after." And then, after that, he would do his homework, catch up on his reading, and sit at his family for dinner. He really needed his sleep. Turning onto his side, he closed his eyes, and hoped Ryoma would be quiet.

"Che, lazy humans," Ryoma said.

He wasn't one to talk. Tezuka ignored him.

"Do nothing but sleep and eat," Ryoma scoffed.

He continued to ignore him. Ryoma's footsteps echoed in his ears as the angel paced fervently from his bookshelf to his computer desk. A moment later, the angel clambered onto the bed and promptly curled up onto the pillow next to Tezuka, knee touching knee, one hand brushing Tezuka's wrist. Tezuka wanted to scold him – what if his mom walked in? – but sleep danced in his drowsy mind, and he let himself fall into the beginnings of slumber.

Tezuka smiled faintly when a wing tickled against his nose as Ryoma shifted.

It didn't occur to him that they no longer hurt.

 **.**

"I'm winning," Tezuka said sternly. "Don't be careless."

"LIFE is _stupid_ -"

"It's simply a game. Quite popular."

Ryoma shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, well. Not just the game. Real life is stupid too."

There was an awkward silence. Ryoma looked so pale and exhausted that Tezuka's stomach did knotty loops.

"Are you alright – "

" _Fine_." Ryoma waved his hand. "It's your turn."

Tezuka rolled the dice and took a few steps forward, all the while watching Ryoma's gold eyes, dark lashes downcast. The glow on his wings had become nonexistent.

Maybe, Tezuka thought, life _was_ stupid.

Angel life, anyway.

 **.**

When Tezuka came back from school the next day, he was surprised to find the room void of Ryoma. His video games had been tucked neatly in a corner, untouched, and not a single thing was out of place. Arching his brow, Tezuka checked his own bed to see if Ryoma was napping, but found it empty.

He felt a jolt of panic. Did Ryoma leave?

He threw open the closet door in his vigor. Relief washed over.

Ryoma was simply sleeping in the closet. Tezuka drew his eyes down, and felt the sick feeling come back.

The angel had shrunk into the cramped closet, head against a pile of clothes for support. His face was white as a sheet, and his breathing, even in his sleep, was labored. He looked so fatigued – _tired_ – as if he were ill. His wings had faded from a bright, vibrant white, to a pale colour edging on transparent. The energy in his body seemed to have drained.

Tezuka stroked his hair fondly.

"Ryoma," he said in a hush.

He stirred, and blinked wearily. "You're back." His voice was hoarse.

"You have to – " The words clung in his throat, stuck. _You have to leave. You're getting so weak._ But he couldn't. "- eat. There's soup."

"Too tired." Ryoma rolled over, and closed his eyes. "Maybe later."

The sick feeling spread from his stomach to his entire body. He shivered in his tennis uniform, before telling himself there was nothing to worry about. Ryoma was simply weak from staying in the human world for too long. Once he returned to the angel world, he would be fine. And maybe – although Tezuka hadn't gotten the answer – Ryoma would visit from time to time. With these comforting thoughts, he headed downstairs and made some soup. Even if Ryoma was tired, he'd spoon-feed him.

Energy came from food, after all.

 **.**

"This is embarrassing." Ryoma glared as Tezuka stuck a spoonful of vegetable soup in his mouth.

"It's for your health. You said you were too tired to eat. I had no choice."

"Yeah, _yeah._ Can you get rid of that stern look?"

Tezuka turned away and hid a smile. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Hmph. Angels aren't s _tupid._ "

"I would never have suggested so."

"I hate you."

Tezuka's lips twitched. It was odd, but he hadn't felt the urge to smile so many times in a lifetime than since Ryoma came.

"Hatred isn't healthy."

Ryoma smirked. "Neither is keeping a rock-face on all the time."

Tezuka didn't respond, but as he looked down at the soup, the faint edges of a smile softened his face.


End file.
